Fired Educator Fights State Law

Drug Conviction In '74 Keeps Him Out Of Schools

Nine months after losing his job at Bloom High School and his future as a teacher in Illinois, Mike Maynard of Crete is still working to educate others.

His classroom has dramatically changed. Instead of giving teenagers a biology lecture in a crowded school room, his forum has become courtrooms or national television talk shows as he tries to change part of a 1985 state law requiring criminal background checks of teachers.

Maynard, who calls the law "ridiculous and hastily constructed," had his teacher's certificate revoked after a routine check revealed a marijuana-possession conviction 22 years ago.

The 42-year-old teacher immediately filed a lawsuit against the Illinois State Board of Education, the Illinois Teacher Certification Board and Bloom Township School District 206 to get his job back.

"To just ignore (the firing) invites ridiculous conjecture," said Maynard, who teaches General Educational Development classes part time for Aunt Martha's Youth Service Center Inc. in Park Forest. "The intent is good, but the message the state gives kids with this law is: `Don't bother trying if you've made a mistake in the past because you've messed up for the rest of your life.' "

The law, designed to protect Illinois schoolchildren from convicted criminals by requiring schools to fire teachers who have records for certain crimes, included misdemeanor drug offenses but not more serious convictions such as murder or armed robbery.

Since 1992, five other teachers have had their certificates revoked for drug charges, according to the Illinois State Board of Education, including former Northbrook teacher Diane Dreksler, who was sentenced to a 7-year prison term for selling drugs in 1995.

But Maynard calls the law unconstitutional because it punished him retroactively for a crime he committed years ago and doesn't allow him to appeal.

"I could even understand it if I smoked pot now, but I don't," he said. "This happened two decades ago."

In 1974 when Maynard was 20 years old, he pleaded guilty to possessing half an ounce of marijuana when his car was searched after a minor traffic accident. He paid a $100 fine and thought the incident was over.

It wasn't until he entered the teaching field that his youthful indiscretion resurfaced. In December, Maynard, a permanent substitute at Bloom, was told his second background check--the first was allegedly lost--revealed his conviction.

"We did what we were bound to do by state law," said Bloom Township District 206 Board President George Michael. "We made every attempt to give him the opportunity to expunge the record beforehand so he could still teach."

In addition to filing the lawsuit, Maynard asked Gov. Jim Edgar for a pardon July 11, but he doesn't expect an answer until after the November elections. Without the pardon or a change in the state law, Maynard cannot teach at any school that requires an Illinois teaching certificate. That includes most public and private schools.

"The statute is flawed, it doesn't serve a legitimate, rational purpose," said Maynard's attorney, William Borah. "It was a rush to pass good legislation in the `Just Say No' '80s, but it was done in such a hurry the legislators forgot to read their own public act. It's odd they would purposely leave out murderers and Class X felons.

"Plus he has no due process. He can't present any mitigating factors or arguments to the board."

That eliminates any hope for a second chance, which has helped people such as former Olympic diver Bruce Kimball, the girls diving coach at New Trier High School. While not a classroom teacher, Kimball still works with children, despite serving time in prison for causing a fatal car accident while driving drunk.

At Aunt Martha's, Maynard's classes are smaller than they were at Bloom. Using lighthearted teasing and a laidback approach, Maynard has been able to build a good rapport with students in the few weeks he has been teaching. When one boy asked if he had seen the movie "Dead Man Walking," Maynard turned the conversation into a discussion about the death penalty. Almost everyone in the class had an opinion.

"He makes learning more interesting," said Joan Loftin, a 17-year-old from University Park. "If we don't know something, he explains it. Before (these classes), I didn't know algebra. Now I do. He made it easy and quick."

Maynard says the classes at Aunt Martha's are rewarding, but working part time doesn't pay the bills, so he recently accepted a job as a district sales manager for Handy Store Fixtures Corp., which is based in Newark, N.J.

"I used to be more upbeat about all this, but now I'm a little bitter," Maynard said. "I'd rather be teaching than splitting my time between two jobs. I miss the bonds you develop with children, the good feeling when you know you've made a breakthrough."